Pro Bono
by AerrowLover
Summary: Set before S5E21. Sam has a bad day, and the brothers have an argument. Sam goes for a drink after being forced to leave the motel, and finds himself in trouble. Will Dean become the big brother Sam now needs?
1. Of Drinks and Depression

**Author Rambles****: I'm on a roll. Need I say anymore?  
****And the Angst Queen did cry: "ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!"**

…  
…

**Also, I worry about me. :P **

**This has Bully-but –then –Big-Brotherly! Dean, Emo-and- depressed! Sam, mentions of Guardian! Gabriel and Surprisingly- kind! Crowley. Yup, it's the full crew.**

**Warning****: Contains swearing, violence, angst, mentions of attempted suicide, and attempted non-con. Yup, I like to hurt Sammy. You read at your peril, all right?**

**Disclaimer****: As always, I do not own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun. If I did, well… Life would be good. **

* * *

**Pro Bono**

'_Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me; and darkness is my only companion.'  
__~'The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing', M.T Anderson. ~_

* * *

It had been one of those days.

One of those really bad days.

Firstly, the hunt his brother and himself had been working on had been stamped with, 'case closed', but it had come at a price. After it having seemed pretty simple at the time. All that had to be done was a little salt-and-burn routine of a violent ghost's corpse, and then the small town in Kansas would no longer suffer the wrath of the girl who had been brutally murdered. No more disappearing townsfolk. No more headless bodies to be found. Everyone could have gone home happy.

But since they are Winchesters, and also since the Apocalypse just happens to be nigh, well… Everything just had to go wrong, didn't it?

The ghost of Doris Grey had not taken too kindly to their antics and had sent him flying across the graveyard. When he had got back on his feet, it had attempted to strangle him, before resorting to throwing him back towards a headstone. Dean had been torn between saving him or finishing the job and getting rid of the bitch, but then things got out of hand. Two local kids who had taken a shine to him and his big brother throughout their investigation in the town had followed them to the graveyard, and had then decided to intervene when the ghost tried to kill them.

But they were just kids. Just fourteen years old. They didn't have the knowledge or strength needed to hold off such a powerful and pissed off spirit, and both had ended up being killed. Killed in front of his eyes while he was helpless to do anything. Dean managed eventually to set the remains of Doris on fire but by then it was too late. The teenagers were dead.

And that was just the icing on the cake. Because the second reason why this was a bad day was that he and his brother had had a huge argument. They had really shouted at one another. It was all down to exhaustion, pain and grief and it had simply gotten out of hand, but they then started in on other topics to use for ammunition, too.

It had not helped that both were feeling the threat of Lucifer with each passing day. Ever since Gabriel had been killed, Sam had felt lonelier and more depressed everyday, and even defeating three Horsemen had not improved his mood, or his big brother's. Because they were ready to give up and give in. Heaven and Hell wanted them to be vessels for the heavy-weights, namely Lucifer and Michael, and no one seemed to care about the humans caught up in the mess. No one seemed to care about how they both felt about being used as toys by supernatural creatures. It was causing a huge strain in their relationship, as one day Dean would mention that he was, 'done' and Sam had to lecture him not to give up. Or else Dean would be plain drunk, or sunk in a fit of depression, and Sam had to raise his spirits whilst he too was suffering on the inside. Yet if he had the audacity to mention he wanted to give up, woe betide him as Dean would rant and rage to him.

And another thing. Dean had been willing to work with a demon – a _demon_, for crying out loud – in order to get more of the Horsemen's rings. Sam had not believed such a thing to be possible. After the grief his brother had given him over working with Ruby the year before. True, Dean had been right, but the fact remained that he was certainly being hypocritical now.

So yes, relations were tense.

And yes, having an argument was not a good idea. Especially not at a time like this. But it had got to a point where Sam did not care anymore. He felt like he was alone. Like there was no one there for him, not even his big brother. And he was damn tired of skirting around the topic of vessels and giving up and the final battle. So he had exploded.

With dire consequences.

* * *

"_Christ, Sam. We couldn't have helped them! You were pinned down and so was I!" Dean growled at his younger brother whilst prowling around the motel room._

_Sam snorted. "I just lay there. I froze, man. I fucking froze and now two innocent kids are dead because of me!" He shouted, dragging a hand through his hair in his frustration._

"_It is not your fault! Are many more times do we have to go through this, Sam? Look, I'm sorry about what happened, I really am. But you have to learn to accept this and move on. We have other things to worry about!" Dean had thundered, but Sam decided to fight back._

"_They are people, Dean! You can't forget that they had their whole lives ahead of them!"_

"_Sam, if we don't concentrate on cleaning up the Apocalypse that's looming – in case you haven't noticed that it is yet – a lot of kids will die!" Dean shook his head. "We have to help them-"_

_Sam burst out laughing, but it was the bitter, sarcastic kind. "Wait, you're being the hero today, is that it? You want to save people; save the World? Wait 'til tonight when you'll have to get pissed to crack a smile, Dean. Then see if you can lecture me on helping people!" Even as the words – the desperate words he had always yearned to say – were leaving his mouth Sam knew he had made a big mistake. Dean's emerald eyes had flashed in sheer anger and his mouth had narrowed dangerously._

"_You can't talk to me like that." The words were flat but edged with rage. "Hell, you don't have the right to even think that! You are the one who started this whole mess, Sam! Jesus, you caused the Devil to break free and now look where we are. Right up Shit Street. It's your fucking fault, Sam!" Dean yelled, slamming his fist down on the cheap-looking wooden desk in the corner of the room. Sam jumped at the noise._

_Sam knew Dean was saying the truth, but it hurt. It hurt him so much that he could feel his eyes prickling. It was his fault. He had gone off with Ruby, helped the Deil pop out of his box and now he had to admit that in doing so, he had caused the Apocalypse to begin. But that Dean should say such things to him… It broke his heart. His already broken heart._

_He looked up at his brother and saw that there was not one hint of remorse written on his angry features._

"_I know… I know it's my fault, Dean" Damn, why was his voice suddenly so small and weak sounding? "And I'm sorry, but-"_

"_You're sorry?" Dean shook his head again. "'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it, Sam. So don't say it to me. Not now and not ever."_

_There was a thick silence. Sam decided once more to try and beg for his brother's forgiveness._

"_Dean, please. I-" He was cut off by Dean holding up one hand._

"_Just get out, Sam. I don't want to see you right now." The words caused Sam to blink furiously, but one look at his brother made him realise it was hopeless to try again. Picking himself up off his bed, he somehow made his way to the door of the motel room._

"_Dean…" He paused with his hand on the door, biting his lip desperately. His big brother, the brother who once told him that he would always been there for him, always loved him, sighed._

"_Just go, Sam." And by the clinking of a bottle, Sam knew what Dean would do next. Maybe it was better for him to leave the room. He couldn't cope seeing his brother drink himself into oblivion each and every night. It wasn't right. Dean had always been the strong, capable one._

_But now he was breaking down in front of him. Just breaking slowly, little cracks appearing over time._

_That makes two of us, Sam thought with a sad smile as he left the motel._

* * *

That had been over three hours ago. It was now ten o'clock at night and Sam had spent those three hours hidden away in a small bar a few streets away from the motel. It was wrong of him, he knew, to be there. He shouldn't been resorting to alcohol to banish his problems like his brother did. But he no longer had the luxury of someone who would be there to listen to him and comfort him.

Maybe he asked for too much. But Gabriel… Gabriel certainly had not thought so. Gabriel had liked to appear late at night, when Dean was sleeping or talking to Cass so he could have Sam to himself, or early in the morning, so Sam and himself could go for a stroll around a few streets together. The Archangel could be teasing, cheeky and could test his patience to the limit, but he never, _ever_ made him feel alone or unloved. He loved thinking up ways to put a smile of Sam's face, and loved conjuring up peaceful locations with the snap of his fingers for Sam to feel safe in.

* * *

_Dean had long since left with Cass, with a mumble of, 'I'm hungry. Catch you later.' He had been left there with naught but his thoughts until Gabe had shown up. Sam had once again talked about ending it all, and this time had gathered several bottles of prescription meds and had locked himself away in the bathroom. He had opened the bottles and was preparing himself when he broke down. Completely and utterly broke down._

_Gabriel had appeared after becoming suspicious of Sam's being in the bathroom, and he was greeted by a sobbing wreak of a man, huddled in a ball under the filthy sink. _

"_Oh, Sammy-boy…Not again…" He had muttered sadly, looking at the scattered white pills. He had snapped his fingers, they had disappeared and he had looked at him, with such concern in those hazel eyes that Sam sobbed harder._

"_I can't even kill myself, Gabriel." He hiccupped. "I am such a fucking waste. I can't do anything right. Except end the World. I know I can do that!" He had laughed hysterically before crying again. _

"_Sammy…" Gabriel shook his head before sitting down beside Sam, and tenderly picked him up in his arms. With one hand he started to stroke Sam's hair, and with the other he gently but firmly removed the small handful of pills still stuffed in Sam's hand. "Shh, sweetheart. You can't keep doing this. It won't help matters." He looked at the crying man in his arms who looked so young and fragile. "You have to be strong. You have to show my idiotic older brother that you can stay above him and not give in. Lucylu wants to see this!" He sighed._

"_Gabriel, I can't do this anymore. I can't. I'm losing myself the more this goes on. I can't cope. I can't cope." Sam gulped, shaking his head. Another huge sob wracked through his shuddering frame. He clung to the Archangel, and looked up at him. "I can't cope!"_

_The Archangel carefully brushed away several fallen tears from Sam's face whilst he kept stroking his hair. The familiar action was soothing to Sam, who could feel himself calming down slightly._

"_Sammy-boy, I know you can. I've watched you for so long, longer than you know. What crap you've overcome over the years… You can ride out this storm. You have it in you." The Archangel suddenly grinned. "'Sides, you have the sheer awesomeness of me. What more can you possibly want?"_

_Sam found himself smiling. He buried his head into Gabriel's chest, hiccupping slightly. Gabriel laughed._

"_You are adorable when you do that!" He dropped a kiss onto Sam's head. "Now, I think you need to lie down; get some rest. You're exhausted."_

_Before Sam could reply, he found himself lying down on his bed with Gabriel beside him. He smiled, feeling safe. But he was worried that that feeling would not last for long – once he had fallen asleep, then Lucifer would be there; ready to plague him with frightening nightmares._

"_And don't worry about Lucy." Gabriel could always read his thoughts, damn it. "He ain't coming to bother you if I'm here, trust me. I get the whole, 'How could you, Gabriel. How could you betray your brothers', yadda yadda though. But he won't touch you." Gabriel promised, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. "Now go to sleep, Sammy-boy."_

"_Gabriel?"_

"_Damn it, don't you ever at least try and sleep?" Exasperation was mixed with amusement, "I spoil you, Winchester. I know I do."_

"_I do love you, you know that?" Sam blushed slightly, and kept his eyes closed. He could hear Gabriel giggling._

"_Awk, you really are adorable." Gabriel lazily draped an arm around Sam. "I know you do, sweetheart. And as kind of you as it is to say that, I want you to sleep." A pause. "Love you too. _Now _will you sleep?"_

_And thus Sam Winchester fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling happier than what he had in weeks._

* * *

"You want one more, kid?" The old barkeeper looked him up and down with something that could be described as concern, but Sam shrugged it off. He knew he must look a sight – cut on his forehead, a black eye – not to mention he had been sitting alone by himself for two hours, drinking slowly but with the motive to drink a lot. But it was his choice; his decision.

"Yes. Another." He was glad to see that he wasn't slurring his words yet. He hated hearing Dean do that, and hopefully he wouldn't end up going the same way.

At the thought of Dean, Sam sighed and looked at the now replenished glass before him, gazing into its depths. He wondered what Dean was doing – drinking? Sleeping? Bitching to Cass? Oddly enough though, regardless of what his brother had said, he felt naught but sympathy for Dean. Sam wasn't angry at him; he was angry at himself. He deserved the pain and depression that had been his companions for so long; the feelings that had intensified since… Since Gabriel's death. He had started all this. It was his fault. He had been too stupid and too blind to see what Dean had seen two years ago – Ruby should never have been trusted. Even a year ago when Dean had been brought back from Hell he had not listened to his brother's warnings, but had gone ahead and willingly killed Lilith. He had believed he had been doing an act of good, not knowing that he had been played right from the very beginning by Ruby. But that was beside the point. He had still been an accomplice in releasing Lucifer himself from his cage, and now he had shoulders burdened with guilt and hands stained with blood. It was his entire fault, he knew. He had to accept responsibility for his actions.

He drained the glass in one go, and set it down on the bar again with a thump. He felt somewhat dizzy, no doubt due to the large amount of alcohol he had just consumed. Sam caught the look the barman threw his way. Clearly the man believed that Sam was heading to total oblivion tonight, and he seemed reluctant to head over with a refill anytime soon.

Sam sighed, running a finger around the rim of the now-empty glass. His thoughts were slightly blurred and jumbled, but one thought managed to rid itself of the fog. He rubbed his temples, trying to banish the headache that was threatening to emerge there.

Why was he here? He was not like his brother, prone to relying heavily on drink in order to cope with depression, was he? Again he saw the barman, and again he thought about how he must look. Did he really look that desperate? He must. Lowering his head so the barman could not see how ashamed he looked, Sam made up his mind and decided to leave the place. It wasn't helping him cope, far from it. He would end up being drunk, and if Dean was too, then the two of them could have another fight. Which wasn't something that Sam wished to participate in, not now. Getting lost in the midst of alcohol wouldn't solve his problems, he knew that.

Calling the barman over, and watching him take his time coming over to him made Sam inwardly cringe again with shame. But he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and quickly dug out a handful of bills, placed them on the bar next to his glass, and slipped off the chair he had been sitting in. The barman smiled at him, but it was followed by such a look of pity that Sam ducked his head and quickly walked away. He didn't deserve pity, not after what he had done. He deserved anger and hate. That he could deal with. But pity from a stranger? He shook his head and left the bar.

If Sam had been less focused on his thoughts and grief, if he had not left so quickly and without a second thought or look, he would have noticed that two men quietly left their seats and followed him out. But as it was, he did not know this, and so Sam Winchester walked away from the bar, not aware that he would so be walking into danger. And walking into it alone.

* * *

**Yeah, I'm sorry Dean was a dick. He'll be nicer in the next chappy, no worries.  
This was MEANT to be a oneshot, but nooo, my fingers typed too much. It's gonna be at least three chapters now, possibily four. Please stick by me, lads. :P**

**Reviews are actually Gabriel-cuddles in disguise. :L**


	2. Of  Drinks and Depression Again

**Author Rambles****: I'm on a roll. Need I say anymore?  
****And the Angst Queen did cry: "ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!"  
**…

**Also, I worry about me. :P **

**This has Bully-but –then –Big-Brotherly! Dean, Emo-and- depressed! Sam, mentions of Guardian! Gabriel and Surprisingly- kind! Crowley. Yup, it's the full crew.**

**Warning****: Contains swearing, violence, angst, mentions of attempted suicide, and attempted non-con. Yup, I like to hurt Sammy. You read at your peril, all right?  
****Disclaimer****: As always, I do not own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun. If I did, well… Life would be good. **

**I spoil you all. Two chapters in one day? ¬_¬**

* * *

**Pro Bono**

'_Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me; and darkness is my only companion.'  
__~'The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing', M.T Anderson. ~_

* * *

Dean Winchester set the glass bottle –now empty – down on the crappy motel table with a sigh. He had unknowingly made Sam's predictions come true, for he was already feeling tipsy and, as he reached for another bottle, he was well on the path of becoming drunk. Not that he cared. He welcomed the sweet taste of oblivion with open arms.

These past few months had been tough – no, gruelling. Not only was the work hard, but every day heralded the End. And along the way, they had lost people. Good, honest and hard-working people. And featuring at the top of the list was Ellen, and… Jo.

He swallowed, and began unscrewing the cap off his next dose. He didn't want to think about them, or how they had died. They had sacrificed themselves, thinking that in doing so they would aid the Winchesters in killing the Devil with the newly-acquired Colt. Now Dean snorted, taking a gulp of drink with a shake of the head. What a screw-up that had been. The Colt didn't work, and Lucifer had gone on to raise Death. So Jo had died along with her mother for nothing.

"Why?" Dean let the word slip out of his mouth. "Why did they have to die for nothing?" He looked around the room, as if hoping his question would be answered by an unseen force.

He wasn't surprised when it wasn't. He had become used to the silence that always followed after he prayed for answers.

Dean glanced over at his brother's bed. He sighed again, and set down the bottle, pushing it away from himself. He had crossed the line when they had argued, he knew. He had ranted at his brother, blaming him for all his problems, and more besides. Deep down, Dean knew he had been wrong to say such things. Yes, Sam had helped to set the Devil free, but he had been lead to do so. It wasn't his fault, not really. And anyway, hadn't he been punished enough?

He rubbed his face with his hands, and sighed, hating the twinges of guilt he was currently experiencing. His baby brother had had a rough ride too, in fact, probably worse than his own. Dean knew all too well about the nightmares that Sam suffered from each night, even though Sam tried to keep them hidden from him. He also knew that Sam still was longing for demon blood; was still addicted to it. Since they had taken down Famine and Sam had been in agony yet again after another painful 'Cold Turkey' session, Dean knew that Sam was still hungering for more. It was only to be expected, especially as Lucifer had sometimes made him dream about it.

Yes, Sam had screwed up over the years. Following Ruby, drinking the demon blood, breaking Lucifer out…But how he had already been punished for it all. He was no longer the innocent kid from Stanford, not anymore. How Dean wished he could have his baby brother back from those days. But as it was, the Sammy he had needed him. Needed him desperately. And he had failed him.

But at first that had not mattered, for Sam had had Gabriel. Dean allowed a small smile to cross his features, and relaxed into the chair he was sitting on. He would never have thought it possible, but Gabriel – the runaway Archangel and one-time Trickster – had softened towards his baby brother, and had decided to look after him. When exactly it had turned into love, Dean didn't know, but even though he had been shocked at first, he had eventually gotten used to seeing the Archangel pop up to see Sam, or walking up to find that Sammy was sleeping in Gabriel's arms. He had been grateful that the Archangel had been around to be there for Sam, because he couldn't. But then that had changed once Gabriel died. Sam had become more withdrawn than ever, and Dean, still suffering from his own problems, hadn't helped.

"Damn it, Sammy." Dean muttered, feeling furious with himself. "Why did I have to say those things to you? You were right to get angry with me. I've let you down for so long!" He picked up the bottle next to him and threw it across the room, feeling a certain satisfaction to hear it smash against the opposite wall. Dean sat upright in the chair again, still holding his head in his hands.

Where was Sam? He had told him to leave. He could be anywhere, and these were dangerous times. Demons could be out there looking for them, for all that Dean knew. Feeling furious with himself all over again, Dean decided it was time he got off his sorry ass and looked for his brother, and see about fixing the damage he had caused.

He was about to get up out of the chair when there was a knocking at the door- a short, sharp rap. He immediately reached for his gun that was currently tucked into his jeans, and crept up towards to the door. It obviously couldn't be room-service, or motel staff. Not at this time of the night. He decided to act ignorant and play along.

"Who is it? Kinda busy trying to sleep here, man!" He called out, holding his breath, waiting for a reply. For once, he got one.

"Stop your whining, Winchester, and let me in." The distinctly English-sounding accent caused Dean to sigh, but this time in frustration, He knew who it was alright. Why he was here though, he had no idea. But his night had just gotten worse.

"Crowley? What the _hell_ are you doing here?" He hissed through the door. Like hell he was opening it and letting a demon in. He still wasn't too sure about whether to trust the so-called 'King of the Crossroads' or not. Granted, he had helped them get the last two Horsemen rings, and had given Bobby his mobility back… But he had asked for Bobby's soul, and so far to Dean's knowledge, hadn't returned it. Also, the demon had remarked once that he was helping him under the old saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', their mutual enemy being Lucifer. But if they did stop Lucifer, where would they stand? But the main reason Dean Winchester distrusted this demon? Exactly that – he was a demon, and demons were not to be trusted, under any circumstances. Look at Sam and Ruby, if you needed an example!

There was a brief session of swearing from behind the door. Probably from exasperation that he couldn't enter of his own accord, due to the ring of salt on Dean's side of the door. "Deano, let me in. I have…A bit of information I think you should be made aware of."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Not interested, Crowley. Now go away before I ram salt down your throat. Done it once to a demon, I can do it again" He threatened. But he only heard a smatter of laughter from behind the door.

"Save your threats for someone who cares. Look, you'll be interested in what I have to say, trust me." Dean could just envisage the smirk on the demon's face right now, "Especially when I tell you that it is relevant to darling little Sammy."

Dean inhaled, feeling a prick of fear for his baby brother. "What about Sam?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"Let me in and I'll tell you. I do not want the humans wandering around here to think I am some sort of call-boy, you know. I have my pride to consider, after all." Dean grinded his teeth in frustration, and shoved his gun back into jeans. He opened the door, and with his foot, scattered the salt below the door so a gap was formed. He looked at the smirking dark-haired demon before him, and glared.

"Now tell me what the hell you are on about." He ordered, while the demon neatly side-stepped over the now-broken salt ring and strolled into the room.

Crowley laughed, and with a wave of his hand the door slammed shut, causing Dean to jump.

"Now really, Dean. You have to learn to be polite – after all, I do not have to be here, but yet… Here I am!" He gestured around the room and bowed, grinning. On looking at Dean, who stonily looked back, Crowley rolled his eyes. "Fine. I can see that you are not in the mood."

"I'm not." Dean retorted curtly, "Tell me what this 'information' is, and why does it concern Sam?" He watched as the demon stopped smirking, and instead looked serious, tilting his head to one side.

"Sam is heading into trouble, Dean. He doesn't know it, but he is." He paused, and looked Dean in the eyes. "Some demons are trailing him as we speak. And what they are thinking is not pretty." His eyes darkened.

Dean felt his heart speed up. Sam, in danger? He had been right to be afraid of the demon threat then. But should he believe what the demon was saying to him? "How do you know this? How did you know we're here?" He asked, his distrust of the demon taking precedence for a second.

Crowley rolled his eyes again, but Dean could see a glimmer of anger there. "Look, Winchester, as big as your ego may be, I do not answer to you. Nor does the World revolve around you. Those demons were here before I was, and I knew where to find you because I just knew. Let's leave it at that."

Dean found his own anger growing. "I didn't ask for you to come here, did I? So don't act like I did, demon." He spat out, clenching his fists at his side. "For all I know, you're just lying to me!" He paused, breathing heavily. "And why do you care so much about helping us; about helping Sam?"

Crowley seemed to think over something for a second. "Because…" he stopped, shaking his head, "actually, it is none of your business, Winchester. I decided to help. Be grateful."

Dean snorted. "It has everything to do with me! And why should I be grateful to a fucking demon, for crying out loud?"

The Crossroads demon resisted the urge to strangle the oldest Winchester and instead threw him a glare. "Fine. Now I know not to bother helping you in the future. But when darling little Sammy doesn't come home, then you will know that I was telling the truth." He spun around and headed towards the door. He was nearly out of the room when Dean called him back.

He had been doing some thinking, and had decided on trusting Crowley, just for tonight. The chance that his brother may be in danger was too great right now, and Dean realised that. He decided to let his heart rule his head, just this one time.

"Crowley, wait!" He hated having to grovel to a demon, but it was what had to be done, if it helped him find Sam. "Tell me where to find him. Please." He watched as the demon slowly turned to face him, his dark eyes looking into his own pleading emerald ones.

"You wouldn't be able to help him; he has at least two demons trailing him. As pissed as you are right now, you couldn't fight an old man."

"Just tell me where he is. I'll deal with that all later."

Crowley considered for a moment, and then smiled. "I'll go one better. I'll take you to him myself. And while I am at it, and because I am _so_ kind and warm-hearted," Dean snorted, but Crowley went on, "I shall help you with those demons. After all, I do not want them reporting my location, so I might as well help you out." His eyes glittered, whether it was to do with eagerness at the thought of a massacre, Dean didn't know. He was only thinking about Sam, and he couldn't help but feel a little thankful Crowley had volunteered to help. He would worry about why later. Sam came first.

"Thank you." He said hesitantly; the words sounded wrong on his tongue. After all, thanking a demon wasn't something he did everyday. "I guess."

"Next time though, you trust me." The demon's voice sounded dark, but then he was smirking again. "Right, darling. Time to fly."

The next thing Dean felt was a hand around his arm, and a gentle tap on his forehead, before all suddenly went black.

* * *

**Yay! Superhero! Dean to the rescue!  
HAHA. Just thought about it - it's really BATMAN! Dean and ROBIN! Crowley. :P**

**...Yes.  
Reviews are like a huggle from Dean/Jensen. Any takers? ;)**


	3. Of Darkened Alleyways and Demons

**Author Rambles****: I'm on a roll. Need I say anymore? **

**And the Angst Queen did cry: "ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!" And she also says a HUGE THANK YOU to all who have reviewed, faved or put on alerts. I'm really very touched!  
This is a very dark chapter, so please read the disclaimer again. If you don't like this sort of stuff, then please don't read on! Thanks. :P If you believe Gabby and/or Sam to be OOC, I do apologise. I just wanted to write a cute Gabby for once, LMAO.**

**This has Bully-but –then –Big-Brotherly! Dean, Emo-and- depressed! Sam, mentions of Guardian! Gabriel and Surprisingly- kind! Crowley. Yup, it's the full crew.**

**Warning****: Contains swearing, violence, angst, and attempted non-con. Yup, I like to hurt Sammy. You read at your peril, all right?**

**Disclaimer****: As always, I do not own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun. If I did, well… Life would be good. **

* * *

**Pro Bono**

'_Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me; and darkness is my only companion.'  
__~'The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing', M.T Anderson. ~_

* * *

Sam was taking his time. He was walking around the alleyway next to the dingy bar he had just vacated, too lost in his own thoughts to focus on where he was going. He felt quite dizzy, and so every so often stopped and leant against the wall closest to him, and gazed up into the night sky.

What would have his life been like if he had not followed Dean that night at Stanford? Would Jessica still be alive, and would they still be together? Would he be a lawyer now, and would he be living a perfectly normal life? Most importantly, would the Apocalypse still be nigh, or would Lucifer still be locked away? But… Would he have met Gabriel? Probably, he thought with a smile. Gabriel would have insisted on seeing him. He would still be alive… It was nice to dream, Sam reflected.

* * *

_He opened his eyes, and yawned. Sunlight was streaming in through the window next to him. It must be morning, his groggy brain summarised. I actually got to sleep last night._

"_Morning, Sunshine." _

_Sam turned around to find Gabriel sitting next to him, drinking what appeared to be hot chocolate. Gabriel smiled at him, and from nowhere handed him a mug of the drink. He couldn't help but return the smile, shaking his head._

"_You'll make me pile on weight, Gabe, the way you're feeding me." He chuckled, blinking sleep from his eyes. He took a sip, relishing the warmth that spread through him._

"_You're too small anyway." Gabriel laughed, and once again conjured up something from thin air – marshmallows. He popped one into Sam's mouth. "All the stress and worry is making you lose weight, don't think I haven't noticed."_

_Sam focused on drinking and didn't reply. So Gabriel hadn't forgotten his breakdown last night then. Sam cringed when he thought about his actions. He had tried to kill himself again, had failed, and had ended up crying. Thank Heavens Gabriel had been there, and not Dean. He would've completely freaked out… Maybe. He sighed._

"_He does worry about you, you know." Gabriel interrupted his thoughts, as usual. "Although I don't like how he looks after you." He frowned slightly, and Sam could feel him wrap his wings around them. "But he loves you; don't forget that."_

_Sam took another drink before setting the mug down, and snuggled into Gabriel. "Gabriel… About what happened last night," he waited to see if he would be interrupted, but Gabriel remained silent, "I know I'd promised you I wouldn't try to do that again, but..." He swallowed. "I broke again." He whispered._

_Gabriel's mug vanished as he turned to face Sam. His hazel eyes drilled into Sam's own. "Listen up, Winchester. You will be the death of me, I swear." He smiled slightly, before looking serious. "I know that you're struggling to get through each day. I know that. And if I see my brother, I'm going to kick his ass for it, too. But you mustn't give in to him, Sammy. He'll win if you do." He paused, reaching out to stroke Sam's face. "And I don't want to lose you to him." His eyes were full of tenderness. Sam didn't know if he deserved to be loved so much._

"_Really?" He asked. "You don't want to lose me?"_

"_Really." Gabriel confirmed, lightly kissing him. "So this is me promising to watch over you, Sammy-boy." He smirked again, and Sam laughed._

"_What would I do without you?" He smiled as Gabriel nuzzled his head._

"_Oh, I don't know. I'd hate to imagine it." Gabriel laughed, and that made Sam laugh too._

* * *

He shook his head and resumed walking. It was no use dreaming about something that could not be changed and could not happen. He had to learn to live with the live he was stuck in. He had to learn how to cope. Gabriel would have told him the same thing, he knew. He swallowed. If only Gabe was still around with him. Things had really taken a turn for the worse once he had been killed. Sam had sought refuge by withdrawing into himself, and he knew that his brother had been worried about him. Probably still was, regardless of how drunk he may be.

Sam shivered as a cold breeze blew around him. He decided it was time to go back to the motel. If Dean was pissed, he'd deal with that. If he wasn't, he'd see about talking to him, try to reason with him. He nodded absentmindedly to himself. If only he could have his big brother back, the one who had always been there for him. He sighed. First he would need to get him off the drink, and then see if they could repair their damaged relationship. It could be done, Sam reasoned, but it would take time. And they didn't exactly have a lot of it, but for once they would put each other first. Yes, he would do that.

It wasn't until he was nearly at the end of the alleyway when he heard footsteps from behind him, and realised that he was being followed. He kept walking, and didn't look around. He realised with a start that he hadn't brought any kind of weapon with him; he had left the motel without thinking. Damn it, he thought furiously. He would have to rely on himself, a thought that wasn't exactly reassuring when he considered how much he had had to drink. Not a lot, granted, but enough to slow him down.

"Where are you going, mate?" A man was suddenly beside him, smiling. "You seem lost. Need any help?"

Sam shook his head, struggling to look relaxed. "No, I'm fine. Just taking a walk, you know." He forced a smile in return. The man kept smiling, and Sam felt uneasy watching him.

"We could help you back to your home, if you want." There was another guy to his left, gesturing to the one on his right who had spoken first. "It's not safe for young people at this time of the night. A lot of druggies hanging around, or guys with a motive to kill." He tilted his head to one side. "We'll help you, if you want."

"Oh, it's okay, really." He made himself smile again. "Thanks, though."

"It's no bother. We live around here, you see." To Sam's horror, yet another man appeared. By the way the other's looked at him, he was in charge.

Sam realised now that without his noticing, they had backed him into the wall. He told himself not to freak out, and instead focused on the men in front of him. The first guy was dark with a few gray hairs, and looked to be in his late thirties. The second speaker was totally gray, yet looked a bit younger than the first. The third man however looked only a few years older than himself, and wore an expensive-looking suit.

"Look, guys. I need to get going, so…" Sam's voice trailed off as the men didn't move. He had a strange feeling that there was more to them that he had previously thought.

"Where are you going? Back to your brother?" The 'leader' said with a drawl, causing the other two to laugh. Sam stared.

"Oh yes. We know who you are, Sam Winchester." The 'leader' smiled darkly, and blinked. Sam watched as he was surrounded by three pairs of black eyes. "We know who you are, and what you are needed for. So… We decided to track you down. It was easy; too easy."

"We're gonna turn you in to our Master." The demon on Sam's left said, with a reverent tone to his voice as he spoke of Lucifer. "And he will reward us for giving him his vessel." Demon Two, as Sam christened him, grinned.

The demon on the right – Demon One, as Sam quickly named him - giggled. "But why should we bring you to him in one piece? As long as you're alive, it should be okay, right?"

"Let me go, before I send you all back to where you came from." Sam said, wishing he had Ruby's knife on him. He stared into the lead demon's eyes. "I will kill you all, you sorry sons of bitches."

The demons faltered, apart from their leader. He merely smirked. "Sammy," he drawled, "how can you take us all down, in the state you're in?" His eyes darkened. "And it's only gonna get worse."

Before Sam could reply he was hurled across the alleyway, where he collided with several trash cans. He hadn't even opened his eyes when he was subjected to a hail of punches, all focused on his chest. He cried out in pain, before kicking out widely. He heard swearing, and kicked again, trying to get up. Demon One reached for his throat, and Sam reacted instinctively, biting the hand that was mere inches from his neck. The demon howled angrily, and then Demon Two punched Sam viciously around the head. Sam, who had been on his feet, fell down from the force of the punch. He felt blood trickling down into his eyes and saw from where he was lying that the lead demon wasn't getting involved in this fight; he was simply watching.

Like Hell I'm letting them get the better of me, Sam thought angrily. He kicked at the feet of Demon Two, who ended up falling down too, and sent a punch in the direction of Demon One. But even as he kicked and fought back, Sam could feel his ribs complain and his head swim. He was in pain, and couldn't keep fighting for much longer. He had just dodged a hit from one of his attackers when he felt a tightening around his throat, and looked up to see that the leader of the pack was grinning, and holding his hand outstretched. As his fingers closed to make a fist, Sam could feel himself choking, struggling to breathe.

"You two, grab his arms." Sam felt himself being grabbed and tried to lash out desperately, and was backhanded across the face for his efforts.

"Bring him over here." Once again, the lesser two demons obeyed the order and dragged him over to their leader, who stared at Sam.

"Sam, Sam, Sam." He giggled. "I have you in my grasp now. The once-expectant Leader of us, and I have you all to myself!" Sam felt the hold around his throat tightening, and he gasped. "I'll give you up to Lucifer, sure. But I want to try you out first; see what you can cope with." The demon crouched down to Sam's level, and put his face close to his. "You look so damn fine right now, Winchester." He suddenly unclenched his fist and Sam coughed, gasping for air as he could breathe again. He looked up at the demon, glaring at him.

"You are one sick and twisted bastard." He spat out. His heart was racing, however. He knew fine rightly what this demon was planning on doing, and right now he was no longer in any position to fight him off. His chest hurt as his ribs protested against what they been subjected too, and his head was still bleeding, along with his mouth.

All the demons laughed at his remark, and their leader reached out and stroked Sam's face. "I am. But what do you expect from a demon, Sammy? After all, look what you got up to with your demon slut." Sam glowered, causing the demons to laugh again. "Oh, so you remember! Well, why should I be any different?" He suddenly had his lips on Sam's, and violated his mouth with his tongue. Sam struggled, and as abruptly as he came, the demon stopped with a moan.

"If only I could take you back to mine, Winchester. Oh, it would be such fun! Don't you think so, boys?" He asked his minions, who nodded and laughed once more. "Oh yes, if only." He sounded wistful, and then sighed dramatically. "Oh well. Better take what I get when I get it." He stroked Sam's face again.

"I am going to kill you, I swear." Sam spat out, trying to get away from the demon. "Do you hear me? I am going to kill you!" His threats were halted mid-flow as once again the demon kissed him, pining him down against the wall. He struggled, but the demon was too strong and soon his hands ripping off Sam's shirt, and exploring his chest. Sam flinched, and tried to move away.

The demon broke the kiss with a gasp, grinning. "Don't fight it, Sammy. You know you'll enjoy it." He dug his nails into Sam's skin on his neck, and trailed his nails down his chest, drawing blood and causing Sam to wince.

Sam by now was starting to feel afraid, even as he tried to hide it. He couldn't fight off the demon, which was stronger than he was, especially when he was currently injured. He tried to push the demon off him, but his wrist was caught in a vice-like grip and twisted, making him cry out. The demon began kissing his neck, but abruptly started to bite him. Sam once again tried to push him away, but he was backhanded across the head and he was almost sick with the pain that movement caused him. Before he knew it, the demon was tugging his belt off from his jeans, and that did it for Sam. He lashed out in a panic, ignoring the waves of pain from his ribs, and the demon was forced to grab both his wrists and push his arms against the wall.

"A little resistance? I like it." The demon chuckled, and Sam could see that his eyes were glittering. "But you'll be mine, whether you want to be or not." He pressed his body against Sam's, once again violating his mouth with his tongue. Sam tried once again, helplessly, to push him off. The demon broke off the kiss again and laughed, reaching for Sam's jeans.

"You have no one to worry about you, do you, Winchester?" The demon breathed into Sam's ear. "No one to come looking for you. So why fight?"

Feeling the demon's hands around his hips caused Sam to lash out in terror again, kicking widely. He tried not to think about what the demon had just said. He did have someone – he had Dean, right? Dean loved him, he knew. Dean cared for him. But if only Dean were here right now when he needed him most!

"You can be mine, Sammy." The demon's tongue trailed down his chest. Sam shuddered, making the demon laugh again. The demon's fingers felt hot against his skin. The thought of what was going to be done to him made him want to be sick. He was about to try to fight one more time when –

"He cannot be yours, darling. He's already owned."

Sam's ears pricked up at the sound of an English accent, and the demon stopped what he was doing, looking murderous. He turned around, his hands staying on Sam.

"You." The demon said flatly, digging his nails into Sam's flesh. "The traitor. I should've known you'd stick to this one and his brother."

Sam watched as Crowley took a step towards him, apparently ignoring Sam's plight and focusing on his tormentor instead.

"Yes. Little old me." Crowley laughed, but it made Sam shudder. He didn't like the sound of it. The Crossroads demon's eyes narrowed as he looked at Sam, and then back at the would-be rapist. "I would let him go, if I were you. I am sure Dean Winchester would have something to say if you raped his baby brother." He laughed again, his own eyes glittering. Sam felt his tormentor flinch. Either he was afraid of Crowley or at the mention of Dean, and Sam found himself smiling.

"You brought Dean Winchester with you." Once again the demon's voice was flat. He looked over to his two minions, both of whom looked terrified. "Stop them, you two. Or else I'll kill you both." They only took a step or two before stopping. "Remember what Lucifer said he would do to the traitor if he caught him?" The demon stared at his minions. "Imagine how happy he would be to those who caught him!"

Crowley merely smirked at the group of demons. "You know that I am more powerful than you. Do not make the mistake of annoying me anymore than what you have already." He said lazily, and then looked at Sam. He dropped him a wink, before looking behind him. "Dean, I think your brother wants you."

And then, to Sam's surprise and intense relief, his big brother stepped out from behind Crowley, looking absolutely murderous. He was holding Ruby's knife in one hand, with his gun tucked into his jeans. He took one look at Sam, his face darkened, and he looked at the three demons surrounding his baby brother.

"You've made a huge mistake, you assholes." He said darkly. "A _huge_ mistake. _No one_ messes with my brother, unless they wanna deal with me." Dean may have drank a bit, but he looked ready for a fight. He glared at the demons around Sam. Who couldn't help but laugh in pure relief.

Dean was here to save him. Dean had come to get him. It was the only thing Sam could think about and he felt deliriously happy, knowing that he _did _have someone who cared about him. He _did _have Dean watching over him.

His tormentor spun around to face him with a snarl. "Why are you laughing?" He slapped him around the face, before quickly kissing him again, this time biting down on Sam's already hurt lip. He broke off the kiss as suddenly as he had started it, with a smirk. "See, Winchester," he said, looking at Dean, "he's my little bitch now."

Before Sam could say anything, and before Dean –who was about to pounce with the knife in hand – could do anything, Crowley snarled, and Sam's tormentor suddenly was screaming in pain, being dragged up against the very wall he had had Sam forced against. Sam looked at Crowley in shock. The Crossroads demon hadn't even moved, he was simply staring at the demon while he screamed.

"Lucifer is going to murder you!" The demon gasped in agony, "He will rip you to pieces!"

Crowley rolled his eyes, and turned his head very slightly to one side, causing the demon to be thrown towards Dean. He landed at Dean's feet with a whimper.

"That may be so, but you won't be there to see it, will you?" Crowley's voice was dark with barely-suppressed fury. He looked at Dean. "Do whatever you want with him. He's yours." The demon's eyes widened and he struggled to get to his feet, but one look from Crowley and he was forced onto his knees, screaming in agony. Sam watched as blood began to drip from the demon's eyes, nose and mouth. He couldn't bring himself to speak, he just watched. Crowley then must have stopped doing whatever the hell he was doing for the demon stopped screaming and lay at Dean's feet, sobbing in pain.

Seeing his tormentor now suffering only a few steps away from himself, Sam started to shake, and looked down at himself. Even under the faint light of the streetlamp he looked a mess. He glanced over at the remaining demons, both of whom seemed paralysed with fear, and then glanced over to his brother. His would-be rapist had been pulled to his knees by Dean, and Dean smiled at him threateningly.

"I'm gonna make this nice and slow." He said clearly, looking at the demon with loathing. "And feel free to scream. I don't care."

Sam closed his eyes as the demon started to scream again. He didn't want to see his brother act like a monster, even though a part of him was thankful that he was finishing off his attacker. He could not believe what had just happened to him, and what he had just escaped from, either.

"Now for you two." Crowley's voice sounded nearer than what it had been before. He must've walked over, Sam thought blearily. He opened his eyes to see Crowley standing in front of him, almost like a shield, looking at the two cowering demons before him.

"Please, we didn't do anything!" One of them blurted out, while the other nodded swiftly. "We didn't know what he," he gestured over to where the yelling demon lay, "wanted to do to the youngest Winchester!" He sounded desperate. "Please, please let us go."

"I know you're lying to me." Crowley said lazily, and suddenly the two were on their knees, crying in pain. "Now, how do you expect me to let you go, after what you helped to do?" He too sounded murderous now. Maybe the demons heard the threat in his voice too, because they looked terrified as the gasped.

"Please let us go!" One of them cried out. "Please!" The other one just sobbed as blood poured from his nose and mouth. Crowley pretended to think, and then folded his arms resolutely. He was smirking again, Sam noticed.

"Sorry, darlings. But what you two did was inexcusable. Tell the Boss I said hello, and send all my love." His dark eyes glittered dangerously and his English accent only served to highlight his rage. He tilted his head to one side, and both the demons were picked off the ground, and slammed against the wall, yelling. Sam watched as Crowley simply stared as black smoke began pouring from their mouths, forming a pool around their feet. The smoke kept pouring out as they yelled until eventually it stopped, and vanished. Crowley blinked and the bodies fell to the ground with a sickening thud. He spun around on his feet to look at Sam. Was that a spark of concern in his eyes, or was Sam imagining it?

"Once your charming older brother finishes up, we're heading back to that motel room of yours." He shook his head. "Though why the two of you rented there, I have no idea…" He shuddered at the mention of the place.

Sam felt terribly cold, but numb also. He didn't say a word in reply, just leant back against the wall. He could feel himself shivering, but he didn't reach for his shirt. Besides, it was ripped anyway. He gingerly wrapped his arms around his chest, wincing as the action made his ribs protest again. He hated this feeling of weakness he was currently experiencing. He had had enough of it from Lucifer; he'd be damned if he was going to suffer again just because of one nondescript demon! He shook his head angrily, and looked at Crowley.

"I'm finishing him up." He said flatly, with a look to his brother before facing the Crossroads demon again. Crowley raised an eyebrow, and Sam tightened his arms around his chest. He could actually taste blood from his lips and nose as he spoke.

"I told him before…" He broke off suddenly, and changed his mind about what he was saying, "I said I would kill him. I want to be the one who kills him." To his surprise, Crowley just nodded.

"Can't fault that." His eyes darkened momentarily as he too looked over to the sobbing and still-screaming demon that Dean was torturing. He smiled grimly. "Go and get him, moose."

Sam smiled weakly and with a struggle, picked himself off the ground. His legs felt unable to support his body and his head was pounding relentlessly, forcing him to close his eyes to recover from the waves of nausea he was experiencing. When he opened his eyes again, he took a step forward before wincing as his chest erupted in pain. He pressed a hand to his temple and took it away, seeing it covered in blood.

"Well, you _do_ look a mess." The Crossroads demon remarked dryly. Sam glared at him.

"Not really helping, you know." He said, prompting the demon to chuckle.

"I suppose that is true." He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, before grinning suddenly. "Then allow me to offer some assistance." He walked up to Sam and before Sam could even blink, he found himself being gently picked up and carried in the arms of the demon, feeling as if he weighed nothing.

"What are you doing? Put me down! I can walk perfectly fine by myself!" He hissed as Crowley started to walk towards Dean, who really did seem to be relishing slicing the demon. From the looks of it, he was using Ruby's knife to carefully carve into the demon's flesh, and every so often would stab him in the chest. The demon's cries had quietened and had become weaker; now mere moans.

Sam felt Crowley laugh as he complained bitterly about his situation. "Sure you can walk by yourself, Winchester." He heard him snort in amusement. "You would have collapsed before you succeeded in putting one foot in front of the other." Crowley laughed again as Sam rolled his eyes. But before Sam could retort back, they were beside Dean, who looked at the two of them in surprise, but he slowly smiled.

"Don't say a word, Dean." Sam grumbled, yet his voice sounded weak to his ears. He saw Dean look at him in concern, and then address Crowley.

"I take it he can't walk?" He asked, looking down at the heap of blood and sobs that had once been the smirking demon attacker with utter loathing. He hated the creature for what he had done to his baby brother; for what he had been attempted to do as well.

"Oh, he can walk, but unfortunately that would result in a collapse." Sam felt Crowley's hold on him tighten for some reason. "Also I do believe shock is setting in." It wasn't until those words had been said that Sam noticed that he was shaking, and feeling desperately cold all of a sudden.

"I'm fine, honestly." Sam said through bleeding lips. "Just need to lie down, is all." Since when did he have to fight to keep his eyes open?

Dean looked worried. "Crowley, take him back to the motel room." Crowley must have pulled a face, because Dean spoke again, sounding frustrated. "I know you hate me giving out orders, but just do that for me. I'll be happy once I know he's in a safe place. Then I can finish up here." He concluded, absentmindedly kicking the sobbing wreck at his feet.

Sam felt another shudder tackle his frame, but tried to look alert. "I wanna…" He blinked, fighting the waves of nausea that had attacked him. "I wanna…"

"I think he wants to keep his word." Crowley's voice sounded dark, but also contained a touch of amusement. At Dean's querying look, he elaborated. "Apparently your moose told that pile of filth," here he looked at the demon in front of him with barely disguised disgust, "that he would kill him. And Sammy here wants to fulfil that."

Dean shook his head. "He's hurt! Just look after him while I take care of this."

"No." Sam forced himself to sound determined. He wanted to kill the thing that had cornered him and tried to humiliate him in the worse possible way. He wanted it to see him raise the blade and plunge it into his chest. He wanted it to suffer from a reversal of roles. "Dean, let me do this. Please." Personally he was amazed he had managed to say so much, and so clearly at that.

Something he said must have agreed with Dean, for his big brother slowly nodded and with a flourish, handed him Ruby' knife. Deep down Dean was darn proud of his little brother for being so brave and so determined, especially after he had been put through.

"Kill the son of a bitch, Sammy." He said, forcing himself to grin. His little brother looked terrible, all blood and bruises. He was very pale, and trembling in Crowley's arms. Maybe the demon pretended not to notice. If so, then Dean felt a tiny bit of respect for him. As Sam held the knife, Dean could see him look down on the demon below him, wearing a look of satisfaction of his beat-up face.

"Crowley, put me down, please." Sam said, struggling to sit upright. He was carefully lowered until he could stand on his own two feet. He dropped down to his knees and reached out to his would-be rapist, grabbing its throat and jerking his head up. The demon's eyes widened, but it attempted a smirk through bloody lips.

"See if you can do it, Sammy. The little wreck that you are. So worthless, so weak..." It gasped in pain, before continuing, "You are…So lucky you got rescued. I would've… completely broken you, you know." Its voice dropped to a whisper. "And you would've loved it."

Sam glared at it, cutting its throat just a little, watching it writher in pain. "You're wrong, you bastard. And I am not weak." It laughed, blood dripping from its many injuries. It looked at Dean and Crowley, before back to Sam.

"Your brother… will be killed by my Master. You will be forced to watch… As for you," this was directed at the Crossroads demon, "he will torture you for all eternity." It coughed weakly. "Sammy, you will… Be left alone."

Sam laughed sarcastically. "Put another record on." He suddenly stabbed the demon in the heart, watching as it squirmed and black smoke began to pour from its mouth, "And I told you I would kill you." He paused, a weak grin forming on his face. "And here I am." With a final shove, he buried the blade in deeper, listening as the demon howled in agony. Smoke poured from its mouth and very soon, it was dead. Sam tried to get to his feet, but felt himself stumble. Dean reached out and took his arm, and tenderly pulled his baby brother towards him. He looked him over with a sigh.

"Oh, Sammy… Are you okay? Lemme look at you." Dean gently tilted Sam's head up, choosing to ignore the flinch that his action caused. He sighed again, looking at how hurt Sam was. "I am so sorry for saying that crap back there." Dean sounded upset. "I shouldn't have; it's all bull anyway. I was just-"

"It's okay." Sam smiled weakly, happy that his brother was once again, his big brother who loved him and cared about him. "I know…Why you said it." His voice sounded quieter than ever, and this was quickly picked up by Dean, who once again looked worried.

"We're going back to the motel and getting up patched up, asap." He glanced over at Crowley. "Would you like to volunteer again?" He asked, watching as the demon rolled his eyes.

"I suppose I better." He sounded exasperated, but Dean could see he was pretending. He glanced at Sam, who was shaking and looked absolutely exhausted. Dean had his arms around him protectively, making the Crossroads demon smirk slightly.

"Could you hold him for me?" Dean hated releasing his baby brother to another demon's hold, but Crowley had helped him, he supposed. Besides, Sam was too heavy and too freakishly tall for him to support properly.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "What am I, your slave?" He shook his head before taking a step towards Dean. Sam still had his head in his brother's shoulder, and didn't look up. "Come on, darling." He said, and Dean watched as the Crossroads demon gently untangled Sam from his brother's hold, and once again Sam was being carried by the demon. Dean thought it slightly amusing to look at – the body Crowley was possessing was smaller than Sam, yet the demon was strong enough to hold his tall little brother as if he was nothing.

Sam was fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. He knew from experience that it was shock that he was suffering from, and he also knew that he should stay awake, but he was desperately tired. His teeth started chattering lightly, and he felt so cold and so numb. A part of his brain was screaming at him – _you're letting yourself be carried by a demon, after what nearly happened to you? After what you said about demons? You hate them! What are you thinking! _But Sam was strangely comfortable where he was, and with his brother at his side, who had grabbed his arm and was still holding on to it, he felt safe. Safe and secure.

"Hey, Sammy. Just stay awake for me, yeah? Come on dude, don't fall asleep!" Dean said, forcing himself to sound calm. His little brother smiled at him, looking groggy, and Dean found himself feeling panicky. The sooner they got back to their motel room, the sooner Dean could start trying to patch him up – injuries and their relationship both. "You're safe now. I'm here." He said, watching as Sam shuddered.

"Deano, are you planning on coming, or what?" The Crossroads demon asked, a tad impatient. Dean nodded quickly, eyes still pinned on his struggling brother. He once again felt an arm wrap around his own, and his was pressed closed to his brother. There was a hand placed on his forehead.

"Hold on tight." Crowley said with a grin, and the next thing Dean saw was darkness.

* * *

**That was HARD to write. Seriously. Thanks to all who stuck with me and read to the end! :P Hopefully I didn't ramble or anything.  
As always, reviews are welcome, as is any constructive crit. ;) Oh, this time reviews are like a Sammy glomp. Any takers? ;)  
**


	4. Of Discussions and Dreams

**Author Rambles****: I'm on a roll. Need I say anymore? **

**And the Angst Queen did cry: "ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!"**

**And also… "IT'S THE END!" How about that? Thank you for the reivews, words of support, alerts and faves, and thanks to those who read every chapter and didn't think, 'dayum. She's nuts.' It's lovely to be loved. :L  
**

**This has Bully-but –then –Big-Brotherly! Dean, Emo-and- depressed! Sam, mentions of Guardian! Gabriel and Surprisingly- kind! Crowley. Yup, it's the full crew.**

**Warning****: Contains swearing, violence, angst, mentions of attempted suicide, and attempted non-con. Yup, I like to hurt Sammy. You read at your peril, all right?**

**Disclaimer****: As always, I do not own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun. If I did, well… Life would be good. **

* * *

**Pro Bono**

'_Lover and friend hast Thou put far from me; and darkness is my only companion.'  
__~'The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing', M.T Anderson. ~_

* * *

When Dean opened his eyes, he immediately closed them again. Damn, travelling like that made him dizzy. He hated it. Next time, he was driving.

"In my defense, I did tell you to hold on." Crowley remarked dryly, and Dean opened his eyes again to see that they where now back inside their latest crappy motel room. He was leaning against the Crossroads demon, who was still holding Sammy. Dean glared at the demon. He also hated it when the damn thing read his mind.

"Don't even." He said threateningly, as Crowley opened his mouth. "Stop doing that. It freaks me out. And," Dean continued in his rant as Crowley watched, apparently amused by his antics, "I don't care what you say to defend yourself, Crowley. Jumping around like that isn't nice. At all." He glowered at the demon who looked as though he was trying not to laugh. "It's not funny!" Rolling his eyes, Dean looked away from the demon and looked to his baby brother. He felt anger stirring up as he saw what his brother had been subjected too. Even though he had taken revenge on the demon back in the alleyway, part of him wished he had taken more time doing it. The bastard got off easy, he thought.

"Put him down on the bed there." He said to the demon, gesturing to the bed closest to the window. "I'll get our med kit from the bathroom." He paused in his movements after the sentence had left his mouth. Dean was reluctant to leave his brother again, even if it was just a quick journey of a few steps to his right in the same room. He bit his lip, considering.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Dean, I am hardly going to eat your brother. He'll be fine for the second you are away." He carefully carried the youngest Winchester to the designated bed, and with the greatest of care laid the shivering Sam down on it. He stood beside the bed, looking at the young man lying on it. He had a strange expression in his eyes when regarding his brother, Dean saw. Was it pity? Or compassion? But a whimper from the bed drew his attention back to his brother.

Sam moaned. His head was killing him, and his ribs felt as though they were attempting to burst through, alien style. The scratches on his chest burned, and the bite marks around his neck and back were throbbing. He felt cold, and ready to throw up. Sam closed his eyes, but opened them again quickly. He wanted to see where he was; see that his brother was nearby. He quickly sought out Dean.

"…'Ean?" He muttered through still-bleeding lips. He coughed, the action grating his poor ribs and making him moan in pain once more.

"I'll be right back, Sam." Dean said to his brother, feeling his heart break as he heard how weak Sammy sounded. He raced away into the bathroom, gathering up the supply of bandages, threads, needles and anti-septic lotion he would need. His mind was buzzing with what had happened. How could he have driven his brother off like that, and abandon him to… Those sons of bitches in that alleyway? And why had he done it? He sighed to himself as he walked back to where his brother lay. He would never forgive himself, and he could understand if Sam would blame him for what he had been subjected to. Some brother he was. If only he had gotten there sooner. If only he hadn't shouted what he had at Sam!

He quickly pulled up a chair beside Sam's bed and look around for somewhere to put all the medical supplies on. Deciding to put them on the bed on a spot that wasn't covered by an injured Sam, and started to pick out the anti-septic lotion from the pile and gathered up the towels he had nicked from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry for all this, Sammy." He apologised to his brother. "This may hurt you a bit, but it's all good, yeah?" He watched as his brother blearily tried to focus on him. "Yeah, that's good. Keep looking at me, kiddo. Look at your handsome big bro." He was rewarded with a tiny smile. Behind him, Crowley snorted. Dean jumped. He had forgotten, with all this worrying about his brother that the demon was still here.

"Not a believer in modesty, are we, Deano?" The demon asked, snickering. Dean decided to ignore that one, and focused again on his baby brother. He carefully pried his little brother's arms away from his bleeding chest, feeling another surge of anger when he saw the blood and bruising there.

"Jesus, they did a number on you, Sammy." He muttered. His father had taught him that when you were dealing with someone who was injured and in shock, you were to talk to them, keep them awake and never mention how bad their injuries looked. But Dean forgot this rule as the monster inside him burned with fury against the filth that had hurt his brother.

Sam winced as Dean began to clean his scratches and dab them with the anti-septic lotion. When he had been a child, he had christened the lotion the 'stingy water' because of the burn it brought when applied. He shivered as Dean started to gently apply bandages to the open cuts. The hands on his skin remained him of that thing that had been pressed up against him. He told his frantic brain that it was his brother –_Deanisgood Deanisgood Deanisgood. Goodkindgentle. _He flinched as Dean once again put a hand on his chest, applying pressure to one particular bandage. Perhaps his brother picked up on his flinching, and knew why, for he immediately stopped.

Dean sighed, watching as his brother shivered. He knew that he had to talk to Sam about what had happened to him, but he didn't want to bring up bad memories. Personally, he would have preferred Sam to be patched up and to go to sleep first, but he knew that Sam would only have nightmares. Better tackle this shit head on now, and be with him when he talks.

"Sammy, it's me. Only me. You're safe with me, you know that." He said, but deep down he felt a twinge of guilt. Sam hadn't been safe with him earlier, when he had shouted at him and ordered him to leave.

Sam stirred, looking at Dean through half-closed eyes. "They're dead…Yeah?" He whispered, his voice sounding hoarse. Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Sammy. Those sons of bitches are dean and gone. No need to be worried about them. And I'm here for you. You're safe." He said, watching as Sam looked at him.

"He wanted… To break me." Sam whispered, closing his eyes. He swallowed. "I was…Terrified in case he did, Dean!" He trembled.

Now it was Dean's turn to swallow. He was furious with those things for what they had done to his brother, who had already been hurting enough as it was. He was furious at himself for not preventing this from happening, and he was heartbroken that Sam had been subjected to something like this. His little brother.

"I know, Sam. I know. But he didn't, did he? You didn't break." He said, reaching for his little brother's hand and holding it. "You're alright. You're okay." He watched as a tear trickled down from Sam's closed eyelids. He looked down at their entwined hands, feeling a weak squeeze from his brother's. He would never let him go again, not ever. Sam was his brother, damnit, and he loved him. Always had and always will.

He cleared his throat again, and looked at his brother. "You go to sleep, Sammy. I'll just patch you up, and then I'll watch over you, alright? You're safe here, I promise."

Sam felt the lure of darkness tug at him, and decided to give in. He briefly opened his eyes to look at his brother. His big brother, who had saved him. His big brother whom he loved, and who he knew loved him back. Dean had come for him, and that was all that counted. "I know… I'm safe… 'Ean… I'm with you…" He muttered, and closed his eyes again. Within seconds he was asleep, no longer feeling in pain, but happy. Happy to be near Dean again.

* * *

"_Aha!" There was a brief smatter of quiet laughter. "You're gonna go to sleep at last!" Another soft stroke against his face which was so comforting._

"_You're so not helping me, Gabe." Sam muttered groggily, struggling to sit up. He was immediately pushed back down, and the blankets were re-arranged around him. He was cocooned in warmth, which made him all the more sleepy. Not to mention that he had an Archangel lying beside him, with his head resting on Sam's shoulder. "You're making me wanna stay up when you do that."_

_Gabriel laughed delightedly. "I told you! I told you you'd never be able to resist my charms!" He giggled, prompting Sam to roll his eyes. But he was really trying not to laugh. Dean was next door, and wide awake as it was. He didn't want him to barge in and tell them to shut up, and then wink at Sam in that way which made him blush._

_Gabriel ceased giggling after a few moments, and then lightly poked Sam. "One, two, three, four. I declare a poke war!"_

_Sam rolled his eyes again in a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Exasperation because Gabriel had a habit of doing this, and amusement because there were times when he wondered just exactly how old Gabriel was. _

"_A poke war?" He asked, yawning heavily. "Do you not mean a thumb war?"  
_

"_Silly Sammy." Came Gabriel's response. Sam twisted his head around to see his Archangel smirking. "I poked you, thus declaring a poke war. If I'd wanted a thumb war, I would've grabbed your thumb or something." He laughed again._

"_Oh. Right." Sam murmured, yawning again. Gabriel noticed and with the same hand he had poked him with, he pulled the blankets closer around Sam. _

"_The war can wait 'til morning. You're knackered, Sammy-boy. Get some sleep." He edged closer to Sam, and giggled again. "You really are freakishly tall."_

"_Thanks. But maybe you're just freakishly small?" Sam said, smirking himself. He yelped when he got whacked with a pillow. "Fine, I'm kidding." He leant into his pillows with a smile. He had closed his eyes when he suddenly opened them again, laughing._

"_For the love of… Samuel Winchester, do you _ever_ sleep?" Gabriel asked, whacking Sam again with the pillow. "What can it possibly be this time?"_

"_I was just thinking about feathers," Sam said, battling off the pillow whilst laughing. "It's a good thing I'm not allergic to them. I'm not talking about pillows," He said hastily, seeing another one approaching him, "I'm talking about your wings. Imagine if I was allergic to feathers. I couldn't be near you." He laughed again._

_Gabriel thought for a moment, his head on Sam's shoulder. "Well, what if you were? What would you have me do, Winchester? Cut them off or something?" Sam giggled. "'Cause you know, I don't love you that much!" He paused. "Why don't you cut your hair?"_

_Sam looked up. "How on earth does my hair fit into this topic about your wings?" He asked, puzzled. He yawned again._

_Gabriel seemed confused. "I haven't got the faintest idea." He laughed, and nuzzled Sam's neck. "The poke war in the morning will decide how that works out."_

"_I shall wait with bated breath." Sam mumbled, closing his eyes again._

_Gabriel smiled, and watched as Sam slowly drifted to sleep. He sighed, and his smile looked startlingly sad._

"_Oh, Sammy-boy. I don't think you know just what I would do for you." _

* * *

Dean gingerly untangled his hand from Sam's and sighed again, looking at the work before him. Where to begin? He resumed from where he had left off, bandaging the remaining scratches on his brother's chest before working on the bite marks on his neck and back. One on his neck looked particularly deep, so he was forced to stitch it up. He was thankful that Sam was deep in sleep and so was unable to feel it. He had always hated getting stitches, one of the reasons why he was loath to do it himself. Once he had completed the stitching, he covered it with a bandage and surveyed his patient. Just the forehead to stitch up – the cuts on his lips and hands would only need a dab of anti-septic from him, and his nose had not been broken. Dean got to work, humming quietly as he did so. Every so often he would drop his gaze to look at the still figure of his sleeping brother, just to check that he was there; that he was alright.

When he was done, he rubbed his eyes with his hands, yawning slightly. But his work wasn't over. He looked at his brother's chest. It was heavily bruised, mostly around the right side of his ribcage, and Dean prayed that no ribs were broken. He carefully felt along both sides of the ribcage, just to be sure, and breathed a sigh of relief when discovering that there were no broken ribs; they were only badly bruised. Of course, they were painful enough and Sam would be in some discomfort for a few weeks, but if they had been broken, things would have been definitely worse. So Dean gently began to wrap a long bandage around Sam's chest, carefully lifting him up, so that the ribs would be cushioned. Hopefully it would alleviate some of the pain, too.

That done, he leant back in his seat and surveyed his work. He shook his head, however. If only Sam had not needed to be patched up. He ran a hand through his hair, before leaning forward a dropping a kiss on his baby brother's forehead.

"We're gonna be okay, kiddo." He whispered to the sleeping figure, before easing himself out of his chair, bending over the bed to gather up the med supplies to return to the bathroom. He'd have to do something about the bloody towels, though. The thought made him smile slightly. He and his brother must be the motel guests from Hell. He turned around to look at Crowley.

"Are you gonna…" The question died on his lips as he looked into empty space. Damn demon must have fluttered away again. However, Dean didn't feel frustrated when thinking about the Crossroads demon. He no longer felt wary of him. He had to admit that Crowley had helped Sam – firstly giving Dean the heads up, before taking him there personally. And then he had actually gone crazy in that alleyway, or so it had seemed. Dean walked to the bathroom again, supplies in his arms, thinking heavily. What exactly had that all been about? And what the hell had Crowley done to those demons? Granted, he certainly wasn't complaining or anything – the more pain those things had felt, the better – but he had never seen anything like it. Making a mental note not to seriously piss Crowley off in the near future, Dean hastily left everything away and returned to his baby brother's bedside. He looked so pale, and the bruises developing on his face only served to highlight that.

"I'd do anything for you, Sammy. You know that?" He whispered to his brother, reaching out and tucking a lock of hair out of his eyes. "No matter what happens, that won't ever change." He glanced at the watch on his wrist – it was well past midnight now, but Dean didn't plan on catching any sleep. He was going to stay up and watch over his brother, and he would think about what to do in the morning when that became an issue. Firstly, however, he wanted to fix that protective line of salt around the door; the line he had broken to let Crowley slip in. He would fix it so nothing else could attempt to harm his brother.

He dug around in his bag for the –nearly empty – salt container, and got to work. He had just finished the line, and thickening the salt lines around all the windows too, when there was a sharp rap on the door.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dean muttered under his breath, a smile making its way onto his face. He walked back over to the door.

"Lemme guess. Behind Door Number One, we have a tall, beautiful brunette. She enjoys yoga and being adventurous." He said, trying not to laugh as he heard a dry, 'ha ha'. He opened the door to see a slightly peeved-off looking Crowley. "It's your fault for vanishing, dude. You know I always replace the gaps in the salt when they're broken."

"Does that rule of fixing broken things apply to your relationship with your brother as well, by any chance?" The demon ground out, folding his arms. Dean glared at him.

"Don't think that just because you helped me tonight, that you get to say that kind of shit to me." He said, watching as the demon mimed wiping away a tear.

"I'm heartbroken that I am still not considered a part of the family." Crowley said, pretending to sob. Dean rolled his eyes at the demon's behaviour.

"What do you want, Crowley?" He asked, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. "I'm kinda busy looking after my brother, y'know." To his surprise, Crowley just nodded.

"I know. But I was wondering whether you required any assistance with that, too."

Dean stared at him, disbelief written across his face. He leant against the door. "You wanna help watch over my brother?" He asked, shaking his head. "Now, why would you wanna do that for?" The Crossroads demon met his gaze, but didn't make any venture to speak. Dean kept looking at him, and suddenly he remembered something. "Is this something similar to why you told me what was happening to Sam? About why you were in the same place as us?"

Crowley frowned. "What is this, twenty questions?" He asked impatiently. "Look, just let me in, and maybe – just maybe, mind you – I shall fill you in."

Dean let out a low whistle. "You can't say something like that to me dude, and not expect me to reply with, 'tell me now and only then can you come in'." He watched as the demon glared at him. "I can just close the door on you right now, and you know it. The salt means you can't enter, too."

"I'm not saying anything out here." Crowley ground out in frustration.

"Then it looks as if you just got rejected, Call-boy." Dean laughed. He was about to close the door when it was swung back against his fingers, and then out of his reach. He swore violently, albeit quietly, and looked to see a now-smirking Crowley staring at him. Smug bastard and his damn psychic powers, Dean thought angrily.

"You were saying?" Crowley ventured politely, tilting his head to one side. Muttering furiously, and nursing his sore hand, Dean once again broke the line of salt with his foot. Crowley neatly side-stepped his way into the room, and the door closed behind him. Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him to the kitchen corner. It was close enough to Sam to check up on him and far away enough to talk without disturbing him,

"Right. Start talking." Dean ordered, quickly glancing at his brother, and then focusing on the Crossroads demon, who was smoothing out his rumpled suit, care of being dragged by the oldest Winchester.

"Where would you like me to begin?" He enquired, smirking whilst pulling a lit cigarette out from nowhere. Dean pointedly gave it a look. Crowley rolled his eyes. "Your bouncing baby brother won't inhale this. We're too far away." Dean continued to look, and Crowley sighed. "Alright! I'll make any smoke vanish then, okay?" He took a long puff, and leant against the wall, cigarette in hand.

Dean didn't know what to say. He had been wondering about the reasons for why the demon had come to help him and his brother for some time, though they hadn't been top in his priorities – Sammy had been. Yet here was the chance he had to finally discovering the reason why. Part of him was actually excited, and another part was nervous. He decided to plough ahead, and see where it got him. Besides, he had a loaded shotgun nearby if he didn't like what he was hearing.

Crowley threw him a look. "That's not a very friendly thing to consider doing, is it?" Dean took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

"I thought I told you to stop taking peeks inside my head." He said angrily, trying to keep his voice down. Crowley just shrugged.

"Can't help it if you are thinking your wonderful little thoughts so loudly, can I?" He took another drag, and then another. Maybe he was nervous too, Dean thought. But could the self-styled 'King of the Crossroads' get nervous? The thought made him chuckle. He could see Crowley about to open his mouth, and he decided to get there first.

"I mean it. No more listening to what I'm thinking!" He ordered, and then Dean decided to start asking questions. "So… Why did you help me and Sammy? For what reasons? I mean, you being a demon and all, there must've been something in it for you." He said, watching the demon very closely for any reaction.

Crowley sighed, and took one last puff of the cigarette before he had it vanish. He then crossed his arms, and looked, not at Dean, but straight ahead. "Pro bono." He muttered, "I did it pro bono."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "For free? But… That doesn't make any sense!" He paced up the little area of the kitchen, and spun around to look at Crowley again. "Why would you help us for free? It's hardly because it makes you feel all soft and gooey inside!"

At that, Crowley visibly flinched, and then shook his head heatedly. Damnit, he was a demon, not a human who could be easily hurt by words. "Let's just say that I was asked to do so, alright?" He wasn't surprised to see Dean shake his head in disagreement again. In fact, he would've been surprised to have seen him nod in agreement.

"You're not getting away with only saying that! Come on, who? Or are you lying to me about this?" Dean said darkly, glancing to see whether his brother had been woken up by their exchange. Thankfully, Sam hadn't woken up and actually seemed at peace, so Dean concentrated again on the demon in front of him. Who was now glaring at him, his dark eyes burning into his own.

"We've been through this one before, Winchester." He spat, "And I specifically remember telling you that you had to trust me 'next time'. Well, now is that time!" He growled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Dean had to admit that whenever Crowley got really pissed, he was intimidating. Not that he would ever say that to him. Of course not. And you better not be listening to a word of this, you asshole, Dean thought frantically.

"Fine. Let's say then that I do trust you enough to believe you this one time. You can hardly expect me to trust you wholly, not after our," he glanced at his sleeping brother's form, "track record with your lot."

Crowley's eyes lost some – but only a small amount – of their burning rage. "I understand that." He said curtly. Dean sighed, dragging a hand through his messy hair.

"Well, are you going to say who then?" He asked, feeling a tad irritable. "Not getting any younger here, you know. Just more tired."

"You remind me strongly of a grizzly bear, Dean Winchester." Crowley said, with the briefest of tight-lipped smiles. The Crossroads demon seemed to think hard about something for a moment, before sighing himself. His shoulders slumped. "It was…" His gaze fell upon the youngest Winchester. "Gabriel." He muttered the word, his eyes not meeting Dean's.

Who was astonished. And didn't know what to say. Gabriel? The Archangel Gabriel? As in, the ex-Trickster, pain-in-the-ass, runaway angel Gabriel?

"Yes." Crowley answered, and Dean was too busy being amazed at this piece of information to tell him off for poking around inside his head again.

"Gabriel… As in, 'Mary, you're having a baby' Gabriel? But… But why?" Dean said, his tongue tripping over the words. "Why would he ask you, a demon, to do that? No offense." He added hastily, seeing Crowley look at him with a look of something that wasn't pure amusement. He honestly could not believe it. He knew Gabriel and his brother had… Well… Been close, to say it mildly; knew that Gabriel would've done anything to keep Sammy safe, but why track down a demon to do so? It made no sense.

"Look, he… I know he and your brother had a thing." Crowley said, rolling his eyes at the look on Dean's face. "He told me, but I could _feel _it rolling off him when I saw him." He snorted; as if love was something he considered unnecessary. "He summoned me, and managed to stop his brothers and mine from listening in. Gabriel informed me of a request he had for me. Said that he knew he was going to die, but that he also knew that darling Sammy was going to have tough times ahead of him. He asked me to watch over him and to keep him safe. Oh, he mentioned you, as well." The demon started to smirk. "He said in no uncertain terms that although you were an ass, he wanted to you to be safe, too. If you were in danger, Winchester Junior would be as well." He paused, staring straight ahead again. "He said that I would be able to help the two of you, if I wanted."

Dean stood there, still with that expression of disbelief on his features. Some of what Crowley had said made a bit of sense, he had to admit, but still – why a demon? Why him? Why did Gabriel not ask Cass, a fellow angel, to do it? But then again, who knew with Gabriel. That little bugger loved to screw things around, Dean thought with a smile. He really had gotten used to him, and he had been sad when he had died. Of course, it had been Sam who had been affected most, but still. Dean really did miss the Archangel; miss his weird sense of humour. Although he enjoyed not having to worry about being on the receiving ends of his pranks, something that had happened a lot. Damnit, Gabriel, he thought. Trust you to be still playing around, even after you're gone!

"But… Why you?" He asked Crowley, looking him in the eye. "Why did he not ask Cass – who is, after all, an angel – to look after Sam? He's usually with us, too. We've known him for over a year – you we've known for what? A month at most?" He shook his head, sighing. "I just don't get it. Why pick a bloody demon?"

"Look, Winchester. You cannot paint everyone with the same brush. Not all demons are bad, just like not all of those winged pompous dicks are good." Crowley shook his head. "Although with the angels, you are walking a fine line. And speaking of angels, Gabriel knew, as do I, that your little feathered friend Castiel can barely protect himself. Oh come on," He exclaimed as Dean opened his mouth in protest, "You do know that it is true. But I digress." Crowley paused and seemed to pick his words with care. "I am old, Deano. Older than you would think-"

"Considering the way you act." Dean muttered wryly. Crowley laughed sarcastically.

"Hilarious. Anyway, Gabriel and I…We go back. Know each other well, you could say." Seeing Dean raise both eyebrows at that statement, Crowley quickly continued, "Not in the same way as your brother and Gabriel, let me assure you." He leant back against the wall, looking weary. "He knew he could ask me to help him."

Dean struggled to contain a yawn. It wasn't that he found what he was hearing boring, oh no. Far from the contrary. It was just that it was late, and he hadn't been sleeping well enough as it was. He spared another quick glance towards his brother. Sam seemed to be at peace, as far as he could tell. Which did surprise him, seeing what he had recently been subjected to. But he wasn't complaining. Sam needed to sleep; even more than what he himself did. Dean let his attention be drawn back to the demon leaning against the horrible yellow wall of the motel room. He shook his head. This was so hard for him to believe – Gabriel and Crowley knew each other? From when? And how? Then again, considering how they both acted, perhaps it was better not to enquire too deeply about that.

Dean went to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He needed it to keep awake, and also to provide some sort of antidote to the craziness of the night.

"Can I ask how you two knew each other?" He asked Crowley warily, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and taking a drink. "Or am I gonna get bullshit from you again?"

Crowley sighed, rubbing his temples with his hands. He wasn't really concentrating on the oldest Winchester anymore; in his mind's eyes he was somewhere else. Somewhere bright, and beautiful. Somewhere from a very old and very distant memory. He shook his head to dispel the image. He was a demon, damnit. He shouldn't be feeling so sentimental!

"Earth to the demon. Kinda waiting for an answer, here." Dean muttered, taking another drink.

"I… I cannot recall clearly enough for an answer you would deem 'satisfactory', my dear little Deano." Crowley said, once again choosing his words with the utmost care. Seeing Dean as looked confused, he knew he had to elaborate once more. "I think I first knew him from… The days before I became like this." He gestured to himself. A look of understanding dawned in Dean's eyes.

"Before you were a demon? When you were human?"

Crowley kept his face perfectly emotionless. "Yes."

Dean let out a low whistle, thinking on what Crowley had just said. He could understand if he could not remember memories from his being a human - Hell tortures them out of you, as Dean knew all too well. "Where you as annoying then as you are now?" He asked with a grin.

"It is quite possible, I'm sure." Crowley concluded with a smirk, before continuing. "Once I became a demon, he did not contact me again. But I did hear news of him, about his running away." He snorted. "I had long seen that coming. Just surprised it took so long." He fell silent, apparently lost in his thoughts. Dean decided to prompt him some more. He really was starting to believe this, as crazy as it all sounded.

"So when did he meet up with you to discuss my brother?" He asked, watching for the demon's reaction.

Crowley stretched, and once again produced a cigarette from nowhere. "A few months ago. Just before the great showdown with Lucifer." He took a long puff, exhaling a ring of smoke. "He asked me to watch over Sam, blah blah blah, keep the two of you out of trouble, blah blah." He rolled his eyes. "Something that isn't exactly a walk in the park, as you know all too well." He took another long drag, looking at Sam this time. "I told him he could shove it all up his arse, but he pulled his trump card. I should have expected it, to be honest." Dean watched as the cigarette vanished, along with the traces of smoke. "But you never knew what to expect from Gabriel."

Dean nodded absentmindedly, "Tell me about it. Had you on your toes all the time." He muttered, setting the beer down on the kitchen table with a muffled thump. He was too busy thinking about what this 'trump card' must have been in order to have made Crowley change his mind. Obviously it had been something big; a demon doesn't just agree to become bodyguards for Hell's Most Wanted for nothing. He didn't know whether or not he would get the answer he wanted by asking, but decided to throw caution to the winds and attempt it, anyway. "Look, what was it he said that changed your mind?" He waited, hoping to hear an answer.

There was a pause, and he watched as Crowley stood up from the wall and tucked his hands into his pockets. He had a feeling he knew what he was about to be told.

"That's strictly between Gabriel and I, Winchester." There was a veiled order in there somewhere. "Besides, I have already told you too much." His eyes flashed, daring Dean to protest.

Dean sighed, and held his hands up, admitting defeat. "Fine. I get it. You ain't talking anymore."

There was a mutual silence for a few minutes, before Crowley announced abruptly, "I had better go. There are still things for me to do, apart from babysitting. As much as I enjoy it, of course." He said with a smirk, making Dean roll his eyes. "A little client to meet, and all that. Time stops for no-one, unfortunately."

"Hey, you're the one who came here, dude. I never asked for help." Dean stopped, thinking. "Are you gonna be tagging us from now on?" He picked up his drink and took another gulp. "'Cause you know, having a demon riding along with us will make us _so_ popular."

Crowley snorted, and made his way towards the door. "And having myself associated with the Winchesters will, of course, vastly improve my reputation." He frowned, considering. "But it is damned to Hell anyway, seeing as I did surrender the Colt to you. Oh well." He shrugged, another smirk already on his features.

Dean rolled his eyes again, and couldn't help but laugh. "It was your choice to help us, you know." He said, looking at the demon.

"Indeed. Hand over the Colt, or be shot by it. What a hard decision." Crowley said dryly, "Now, as delightful as this little chat as been, Deano, I must dash." He narrowed his eyes, suddenly looking threatening. "Remember to look after your brother. I cannot aid the two of you all the time, you know. I do value my neck slightly more the yours'."

Dean nodded. He did understand what the demon was driving home. Crowley was, after all, a demon. He would think of himself before others, and think it natural. Anyway, he had helped them tonight, and apparently had to look out for them from now on. It was enough, Dean concluded.

He turned around to check his brother. Yes. It was enough. His brother may have been in an even worse state, had it not been for the Crossroads demon. He had to be grateful for that. And Gabriel… Well, it showed that he really did care about Sammy. He would be thankful for that as well.

"Yeah. I get it. Now-" Dean turned around and he stopped talking when he discovered that there was no one there; he was alone in the kitchen. He dragged a hand over his face, holding back a yawn.

"I really hate it when they do that." He muttered groggily, but he was too tired to even feel annoyed. He quickly fixed the salt line once more. "No offense, but don't you turn up again. We're running out of salt." He grumbled to the empty kitchen. Dean then made his way over to the chair next to his little brother's bed, and sat down. He sighed as he relaxed, his muscles aching.

It had been a heck of a long day, and an even longer night. He and Sammy would have a lot to talk about, and that too would take a long time. It was to be expected, especially after everything that they had been through recently. He would tell his little brother that he was sorry for his behaviour over the past few months, and tell him that he loved him. It was the least he could do.

Apart from staying up to watch over him, of course. Dean fidgeted on the chair, trying to find a comfortable position.

"See what I do for you, Sammy." He said with a grin, as he eventually found a comfort and stretched out. "When you wake up, we're gonna get something to eat, and then… Just chill. No thinkin' about hunts, or the Apocalypse. We're just gonna relax." He smiled, looking at the dark rings under his brother's eyes, a result of sleepless nights and being constantly on the go. "I think you'd like that." Dean nodded, as if to settle the deal. He checked his watch again, and then leant his head against the cushion he had re-arranged. "Night, Sammy."

* * *

And so that night Sam slept, watched diligently by his big brother. When he had a nightmare at approximately half past four in the morning, it was Dean who calmed him down, soothed him and helped him get back to sleep. And when he woke up at around noon, it was Dean who cheerily greeted him with, "Morning, Samantha. Enjoy your beauty sleep?"

Sam Winchester thought he had died, and gone to Heaven.

_Fin_

* * *

**There you have it. One finished ficcy. The Angst Queen hopes that you enjoyed!  
She also wishes to inform you that seeing as she has been attacked with a new theory to write about, there will be two companions pieces to this. But more of that later!**

Thank you again, guys, for reading and reviewing. What an awesome bunch of fellas you all are. :P  
Take care now. xx


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